if sex were shoes i'd wear you out
by tombombadillo
Summary: It starts with a lack of batteries.


**For Ellie and for Amy, my loves, who via gentle persuasion and some angry yelling managed to coax this one out of me. It didn't require much, to be all that honest.**

* * *

It starts with a lack of batteries.

* * *

Kate had been too busy having a solo shower, despite his pleads to join her, so he's decided to be too busy by rooting through her kinky box. He knows the contents, mostly, the high quality leather handcuffs that have adorned both of their wrists on more than one occasion, tangled around a small slim vibrator that he positively _loves, _and then there's various lubes, scarves, a soft rope that he's itching to try out, and write down at the bottom, almost where he hadn't noticed it the first time, is a small, button shaped object, silver in colour, placed next to a slightly larger remote control, with one dial, and a large button.

He'd asked about it, a few months ago when he'd first poked around in there, and she'd told him what it was but that it was out of batteries and she'd never gotten around to actually replacing them. Hm. Might have to do something about that.

* * *

He's bored. Sitting in his chair next to Beckett's desk, hands jammed in his pockets because she's had a shipment of new paper clips and he's absolutely itching to create a super long chain that reaches from one side of the precinct to the other. And he would, but Kate's frowning at paperwork, brow furrowed, and fists pressed into her temple and he thinks if he pushed her too far then she'd more than likely shoot him.

Which is why his hand brushes against a strange object in his pocket. Hm. Pebble shaped. Smooth. A dial, much like the old controls on an ipod, and a thumb shaped button. _Oh._

* * *

Lunch time. Chinese take-out, somehow, all of them gathered around the conference table. He was starving, had wolfed his down in record time, but Kate is being slightly more conservative, maybe a little distracted. He's bored, again, and his hand finds the remote again, his thumb moving to and fro across the dial. Probably a bad idea, he has no idea how strong the vibrator would be, and doesn't want to make anything too obvious.

But he presses the button anyway.

She manages to pass it off as food going down the wrong way, and Ryan and Espo pass her nary a glance. But she shoots him a look, arousal and daring, she _wants_ him to do it.

* * *

He tortures her all day. Changes the intensity throughout the afternoon, till even the smallest of vibrations has her gripping the edges of her desk with white fingers. She has to break at some point, he knows there's only so long she can go before having gratification, has tested it out numerous times. He keeps expecting her to go for a very long bathroom break, or to feign the need for a trip to the supply closet, and he's hoping it's the latter because it's not just her that's being affected. Knowing what that little ball of electronics is doing to her, and that he's responsible, in a way, for its actions, he's positively itching to get her somewhere private.

Even if it means having her up against the cupboard with all the staples.

* * *

Finally.

Finally it's five pm and he's impatient to be getting off because she never even _moved_ from her seat and he ushers her away from her desk, even though it's technically breaking their _professional in the work-place_ attitude, he has his hands on her waist the moment they reach the sanctity of elevator.

"You're impatient, Castle." she teases, acting like she's all devil-may-care, no I've barely noticed I've had a vibrator in my knickers, really, I haven't, but he knows her better than that. Her back is tense, her thighs so tight together, trying to find any kind of pressure or release he can. He's tempted to give it her, right now. Any extended amount of vibration would have her completely falling apart. And where it's not _actually_ sex in the precinct elevator ("get that one off your bucket list, Castle. It's never going to happen."), giving Kate one of the hardest orgasms of her life sure comes pretty close.

He has her pressed up against the door, hard, one of her legs wrapped tight around one of his, trying to get him closer, to get herself closer to find some kind of release, just something that will relieve the pressure that's started from the base of her spin and has slowly been inching through her bones, joints, muscles, synapses and neurones, all threatening to overload if _something_ doesn't get down about it.

Castle is fixated on that one spot below her ear. The place that makes her toes curl in her heels, her eyes roll back and her nails dig into the tender flesh of his shoulder. He never seems to mind. Quite enjoys finding the marks an hour or so later. But it's too much, it's too much and not enough, and she either needs him to get her off, or to get the damn remote and let that do it for him.

"Castle," she gasps on breath she can barely gather, "Castle, please."

"Please what?" he murmurs, his fingers working deftly at her shirt buttons. He never gets it open past her belly button, just shoves his hand in to massage her breast, thumb flicking against her nipple through the lace.

"_Need_ you to _do_ something." She insists, using her own hands to fight with his belt and zipper because maybe if she can tease him enough then maybe _he'll_ stop teasing and actually do something productive.

"What do you want, Kate?"

"You," she grits out, when he tweaks her nipple just like _that_ and it's a brilliant flash of pain, delicious against the pleasure he's bringing out of her, "your mouth, just _something_."

He hums something against his shoulder, roots around in his jacket pocket. "This _something_?"

"Yes," she says on a moan, can already feel the anticipation building, "yes, Castle, please."

He forces one leg in between hers, nudging her hips forward until she's pressed so tightly against him she swears she can feel each sinewy muscle of his thigh. He holds her there, tight, and then presses the button. It's not on the highest setting, more like a low medium, but she doesn't care, doesn't mind when it's pressed so hard against her, that even the tiniest buzz would have sent her careening off the edge at a thousand miles an hour. That's what it feels like. Castle doesn't have to move, neither does she, they're both just waiting for the inevitable.

It hits her like a rocket. Fast and explosive and she swears over and over into Castle's shoulder, hips jerking, circling, it just doesn't stop, even when Castle releases the button, every time she thinks it's over there's another aftershock that leaves her sobbing into Castle's shoulder.

He soothes her slowly, fingers making patterns on her chest, her lower back, pressing soft and gentling kisses against her mouth. After what feels like an hour she opens her eyes, tilts her head back against the door and looks at him. They must look like a right state.

"Better?"

"No." She says, and then she's reaching for his trousers, tugging them down until she can reach into his boxers and pulls his erection out, hard, and hot, and throbbing in her hand. "I've been having all of the fun."

She gives a couple of pumps before releasing him and then she's divesting herself of her own trousers, shedding her shirt, and standing in front of him in nothing but coffee coloured lingerie, and four inch heels that put her at _just_ the perfect height. She goes to take them off but he stops her.

"Leave them on." She has a wicked glint in her eye at that and she lets him turn her around quickly, bending her at the waist and then her ass brushes against him, making him groan, and Kate to tip her head forward in anticipation.

He places one of his hands against the door, right next to hers (they're fucked if someone comes home right now, there's no way of hiding it) and uses his spare hand to pull the scrap of lace aside and then thrusting forward. He doesn't enter her, not yet, just parts her folds with him, coating himself (and she's _wet_) and listening to the tiny gasps that escape her mouth every time he hits that bundle of nerves that's still so over-sensitised from before.

And then he can't take it anymore and he eases into her (hot and tight and wet and completely devastating) one hand on her hip, the other reaching up to tangle in her hair, tug on it until she's forced up, her back curving in a delightful curve that presses her just that little more into him.

"_Shit_, Kate."

She's lost all sense of coherency, which is unusual, as it's usually him that goes first, can't make his mind work past the blissful escape that her body is. He's well on his way to that, with every slow thrust, every fast pull back, he's falling faster and faster, the inevitable conclusion roaring towards him. Her hands are scrabbling at the wood, desperate for some kind of purchase but it affords none and she whimpers, a sound that he rarely gets from her, but it has him moving the hand on her hip downwards, finding her clit, pinching it slightly between forefinger and thumb and then she's gone again, clamping down on him and nothing can possibly stop him now and he spills into her, muttering curses and her name and more curses over and over until he's spent.

Kate pulls herself forward, and he slips from her, both groaning at the lack on contact but then she's back again, hands framing his face and kissing him with more finesse than they've both had for the past hour.

"We should definitely do that again."

* * *

Tumblr: sirmcsteamy

Twitter: ktkatics


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